Numbed and Exhausted

Just like closing a book without reading a page, Or as to a child who is tired of being a kid; Like a preacher that won’t stay in a pulpit so long Or to a sprinter who leaves from the running throng. No time for laughter or for returning a grin Or consoling oneself for the pain deep within; No self-pity or pride to be felt by the heart Yet reserved and reluctant for another start. Sleep is precious and so desired by the mind Having no urge for a smoke or for the spirit of wine; No more is the longing for a kiss or embrace When the will of a man only needs its own space. Like a rooster of the dawn that would be cackling no more As the dew that would dry without wetting at all. Or a poet who used to spend some long sleepless nights For the mind is now stalled with nothing to write. No more rhyming lines or a tune for a song Though the art for the craft is still able and strong; But to rest and to rest is what the soul ever wanted For the spirit that is numbed and so exhausted. Date & Time of Writing November 19, 2011 1:32pm – 2:05pm I had a sleepless night and feeling the pain within my heart up to the time of this writing. I am simply getting impatient of my own patience. I feel that, for such, I become vulnerable to exploitations and blatant lies. Albeit, I still strive to be fair by keeping the pain within myself and hoping that at the end of this particular writing the pain I have inside would be just a driving force of coming up another piece of a candid poem.